User blog comment:Nikolai Banks/Gangs, Tribes And Clans Of Redwall/@comment-3135907-20110804164239/@comment-3135907-20110804184515

Wettey sets down the chest. With a casual smile, he removes his hat in a flourishing bow. The fox- for the cloaked beast is a fox -smiles and bows also, but mockingly. "I sad stan' an' deliver, not bow an' deliver. 'Ear dat! Not bow'n'd'liver. Hahahaw!" His band chuckle and laugh dutifully. A rat holds up his voulge and says, "Can't we just spear 'em an' be done wid et, Chief?" The fox shakes his head and facepalms. "Wot am I ever gonna do wid yar, Skrobill? How d'yew propose he'll stan' an' deliver if we slay 'im? He'll fall, an' yew can't expect 'im to deliver if 'e's falling and slain."
 * "Er, right, Chief." The rat turns and mumbles something in his companion's ear. The female stoat nods.